Today, the fall semester at the Universit� Paris IV (La Sorbonne) began. It seems strange to be starting so late, but that’s just another of the many differences in the French education system as compared to its American counterpart. I’m excited (but extremely intimidated) to be taking a literature class there. The Sorbonne is one of the oldest universities around – prestigious, old, and terribly confusing. Classes and locations often aren’t announced until the day the classes begin, professors may just not show up, and announcements are posted on a bulletin board (no convenient e-mail notifications). Professors are government employees, and I’m told that many of them have no interest in speaking with students, or in hearing students’ opinions. They also don’t hold office hours. Courses are run in two parts – a lecture, or cours magistral, with the professor for 1-2 hours a week, and a discussion section with a graduate student (called a travaux dirig�) for 2-3 hours each week.

It takes about 45 minutes for me to get to the Centre Malesherbes, the building where my class is located. The Sorbonne’s classes are all over the city – there’s no real “campus,” although the oldest building, what one traditionally thinks of as the Sorbonne, might count. Of course, the secretariat, where students go to check their class locations, is closed until Monday afternoon (my class starts at 8am). My TD was bigger than I was expecting, with a heavy syllabus (or programme, as it’s called). But luckily, the professor is letting the exchange students avoid a few of the assignments (score!). The cours magistral was today as well, in a huge auditorium (a lot like the Forum). The professor was the archetype of French professor – old, a bit haughty, yelling into the microphone about the definition of literature. But I think it was worth getting up before sunrise (and it was still dark when I got there).

The classes at the IES Center have helped me prepare for this new environment, somewhat. Our professors are all French professors or professionals; several of them have a PhD from the Sorbonne. My History of French Cinema instructor is actually a filmmaker, so he’s able to provide a lot of interesting information and angles on the material. I’m also taking a class about immigration in France, and it’s fascinating to see the daily repercussions of France’s immigration policies and understand why the French react to les �trangers the way they do. Because there’s such a strong sense of national identity and the need to protect it, the French hold their culture sacred, and anything from outside is a threat (except trends from New York, apparently). For example, there’s an institution here called the Acad�mie fran�aise, consisting of forty men and women called the Immortals, created a few hundred years ago for the preservation of the French language in its truest and purest form. 

Postcolonial theories and ideas barely exist here; the Algerian war for independence was only about forty years ago, and the wounds are still fresh on both sides. The status of immigrants, especially those from France’s former colonies, is ambiguous. France wants them to become integrated, to become French, but at the cost of effacing their self-identity, religions, and backgrounds. The government’s recent legislative activities (deporting the Roma, passing new and stricter immigration laws, Sarkozy’s racist comments against North Africans) aren’t helping the situation either. But it’s definitely helpful to get a better understanding of the underlying tensions here. 

Location: 108 Boulevarde Malesherbes, Paris, France